Changes
by ladylazarus13
Summary: While still on the shores of Elfhelm, Casca has regained her heart. This story includes lemony goodness. Cas/Guts with a hint of Far/Guts one-sided .


The small band trudged on through the vast forest of Elfhelm, their commander's massive figure far ahead. They only could catch sight of him in random moments as he began to blend in with the darkness. It would take a full day's journey to arrive back to Roderick's ship, and though everyone wanted to rest with their aching limbs and wounds, Guts refused. As he had kneeled in front of Hanabufuku, his blood seeping through the Berserker armor, he had cradled Casca's limp form to his chest. His eye roamed her body looking for any indication that she would be alright.

"The woman before me has received her heart once more. Do not be weary, traveler who straddles this world and the next, she will awaken in three days time." Guts looked up at the large king of the fae, and gave a short and solemn nod. He adjusted the sword on his back before standing and tightening his hold on Casca.

"Let's go, or stay here till you're ready. I don't give a fuck," Guts glanced over at his companions then strode out of the throne room of Hanabufuku. He didn't care about their looks of disbelief. He didn't care about the wounds they all had endured. All he cared about was the woman in his arms.

* * *

At dawn on the third day, the woman's eyes opened. She blinked numerous times, adjusting to the light of the room, her gaze steady on the wooden ceiling above. They looked on in interest, and Schierke had to hold a hand over Isidro's mouth to keep him from screaming in jubilation. Evarella smiled, copying her mistress by sitting down on Puck's head to keep him from also making a raucous. It was bad enough the couple had an audience, never mind a loud one. The small witch knew that it wasn't the time for it, that they didn't need to frighten this woman. She watched the swordsman's face as he sat on the edge of Casca's bed. The young girl felt a strange pull at her heart.

Casca rose up from the pillows, her movements jerky. With some effort her legs came to hang off the edge of the bed. Her long hair shielded her face, her head bowed. Her hand reached out, patting over the blankets without looking. She knew Guts was sitting next to her, she knew.

Yet she couldn't bear to look at him, or anyone in the room for that matter. Her fingers searched to take hold of his hand, but instead found the smooth iron of Guts' make-shift arm, and she flinched. Guts began to inch away, but both of her hands shot out and took grip of the cool metal, her knuckles turning white. She looked up, her eyes finding his. Silent, and imploring.

The group had been used to a mute Casca. Though she had made attempts to communicate with guttural noises before, she had usually been silent. But it was different now, they all saw that. After the first hour, Schierke with cautious steps moved close to the bed, and she whispered into Guts' ear. She insisted something must have gone wrong, the magic faulty, but Guts shook his head. He knew it had worked, he could see it in the very way she held herself, the way she looked at him. He could just feel the presence of his commander, his lover.

Guts had never been much for talk before, but now he seemed to mimic that deep quiet, his gaze trained on her. When spoken to or asked certain questions, he would just nod or give one word answers, sometimes a mumbled "later." The others spoke in hushed tones happy that she was no longer ill, but they could feel this tension crawling up their spines. Serpico could feel it rolling off of his companion. There were small hints of doubt on Farnese's face that showed through her smile. She kept taking nervous glances at the pair, and in a short time excused herself from the room, and Serpico soon followed. Schierke and Isidor became restless, each with their own fairy muttering things at them, and like the others left with promises to return with breakfast. No one wanted to admit the company of the silent pair was unbearable.

Already, she was reminding him of the old days.

They laid next to each other in the small bed, Casca curled up towards him. The only contact between them was the soft pad of her index finger, as she touched his seared flesh. She needed to distract herself from her thoughts, those flashes of black that would creep into her mind. So, she instead thought about this patchwork of skin that lay before her.

Casca's finger moved over the burn marks that laced Guts' chest. Her finger traveled further, going up and down the small hills of his abdomen. She paused before resting her palm upon the scar she had inflicted all that time ago. She could barely see it now. The scar was hidden under much larger and darker ones, some spanning their way from his hip to mid-stomach. She felt her insides churn. Battle scars were admirable, but these wounds could have killed…they could have…. Casca shut her eyes tight, a tremor running through her.

As she explored, his eye searched her face for something, anything. Her expression seemed to be one of rest, but he knew she never was one to be put at ease. Casca was always thinking, and the stress lines in her face though faint had returned back to their usual place. It was his one and only regret at returning her wandering mind, she was far from peace now.

He ignored the thought, and found himself looking at the soft pink of her lips that began to draw him in. Could he? Could he kiss her? Was it too soon? Guts' body ached, and as he shifted his head closer to hers, a loud knock reverberated throughout the room. They both flinched back, but Casca was the first to move. She quickly scooted away, and as her feet came to rest on the cold wood floor, the heavy door to the room banged open.

"Breakfast? D-do you want breakfast?" Farnese scanned the room looking everywhere but the lying half-dressed form of Guts. She held a tray of various bowls, but seemed unable, too nervous to walk over the threshold.

"Sure," swinging his legs off the bed, Guts walked over to the small circular table on the adjacent wall. He tapped the top of its smooth surface. In a few strides, Farnese stood beside him and began putting the bowls of food on the table.

Her gaze moved between Guts and Casca before coughing to clear her throat, "Should I—should I join you both?" She looked straight at Guts, and he nodded with a shrug. Farnese pulled out a seat for Casca before sitting, and Guts after a nod towards the woman still watching from the bed, took his own seat. Casca made her way to the table and slipped into her chair.

"The others ate already and I realized you both hadn't eaten." Farnese took a bite of her food, and noticed Casca had yet to pick up her spoon. She held back a sigh between her teeth. Digging out a large spoonful of the porridge, she brought the spoon to Casca's lips. The spoon prodded Casca's mouth to open. After a few moments, Casca's dark hand reached up and gently rested on Farnese's before taking the spoon from her.

"It's okay, I've got it. Thanks." The sound of Casca's voice, rough from months of not forming words, caused Farnese to gasp, a blush spreading over her cheeks in embarrassment. She had never heard her ward speak before, and that voice reminded Farnese this was not a child, this was a woman.

Guts watched on as he continued to eat, trying not to…trying not to show how elated he was for something that should have been normal. Damn it, he wanted her to feel normal. He wanted them to be normal again.

"Sorry, I'm just so used to helping, and I—, sorry. Sorry." The blonde looked away at her own food. This woman would no longer need any help from her.

"I know." She spoke again, softer this time, but Guts was able to hear it. The roughness he caught only seemed to rub against his skin.

They all continued to eat in silence. Farnese took another spoon off the table and as she worked on her porridge, her fingers tightened on the handle leaving small imprints of its edge. When they had finished, Farnese stacked everything back on the tray and turned to leave the room.

"Um…Do you have any extra pants?" asked Casca as she stared at the pants resting on Farnese's slim frame.

"I can check, I'll have to go rummage in through some of my belongings," she turned and looked at Casca. "I'll bring it by soon…a shirt too?"

The brunette nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips, "Thanks."

Farnese smiled back, and with a quick look at Guts before leaving, the door once again slammed shut as she left.

Casca turned back into her chair, facing Guts. "Let me borrow a knife?" When the words came out, it was a mix of a question and a command. The gruffness in her voice making it more authoritative then she meant.

He thought of the first time he had seen her with a sword, the way she held a blade with a brutal grace no man could possess. He thought of when they stood side by side countless times on the battle field, her sword resting along the smooth curve of her hip. He thought of the time during her insanity when she had tried time and again to take his knives in a desperate attempt to escape. He thought of the last time he had seen her with a sword, her breasts heaving up and down as she breathed heavily. The blood of men splattered along her body.

Guts exhaled slowly. He pushed back his chair and walked over to the Berserker armor that sat on the floor across the room. The belt of his smaller knives lay across it, but he decided to take out the medium sized dagger instead. He held it out for her, the handle first and the sharp blade held tight in his iron hand. She walked over to him, her fingers reaching out for the smooth wooden handle, but Guts pulled it away.

"For your hair?"

"Yeah."

Then he flipped it, the blade facing outwards, the curved point facing up. He moved past her, turned the chair that had been Farnese's out from under the table and towards Casca. Guts slipped into it and nodded towards the ground between his legs. "Take a seat."

There was a brief pause before she lowered herself, her head brushing against him as she adjusted. Some strands of her long hair seemed to caress his bare calf, and he could feel his skin catch fire. From the small spot of his leg, it burned its way up his body. He tried to ignore it.

With the knife in his iron fist, he ran his good hand through her hair. The calluses on his fingers getting caught, but Guts tried to do it as gentle as possible, trying not to scare her away.

"Short like before?"

Her head bobbed in a quick nod. Taking a section of hair, he pulled it taut before taking the knife in his other hand and slicing his way through the long tresses. The remains of hair pooled at his feet like dark water, some wispy droplets clinging to her dress. When he finished the back, he stilled.

"Turn around." There was a questionable tone to his voice. She twisted around, her head bowed, her eyes downcast. He thought of this moment even before the Eclipse. He had dreamed of Casca between his legs just like this…those warm pink lips, her tongue smooth against his skin. He shivered. It wasn't the time. He willed the hardness away, to get a semblance of control.

His index finger ran down her cheek before resting against the bottom of her chin. He lifted her gaze to his. No longer did insanity cling to her rich brown eyes, but in the place of confusion was a hardness. It was a thirst for battle that he had seen in her eyes countless times. It wasn't to be mistaken for blood lust, no… it was her strength taking hold. A strength to reach the goals she had set for herself, for the Band of the Hawks while commanding.

Guts continued to cut, working on her overgrown bangs. He went shorter then he had intended. Leaning back, he took it all in. Casca looked like when they first met, so fierce and young. His stomach twisted.

She looked at him, her hand reaching up to gingerly pull the hairs. "It look okay?"

"I messed up a bit, too short." His large shoulders shrugged. "But you look good."

They both grew quiet once more, and after a few minutes Casca rested her hands on both his thighs and pushed herself upwards. The burn grew again beneath her palms, hotter now than before. He expected her to back away, but instead she inched closer, a chuckle on her lips.

"I needed help getting up. My legs are weak." She paused, looking at anywhere but him. "My body has changed."

The words meant much more than they should. They hung in the air like the prayers for a dead man.

Guts wanted to hold her, especially now. He had wanted to when she first awakened, but he knew that he shouldn't touch her, not yet. He _knew._ Guts couldn't bear it if she shrank away from him now, after all this time, after she had gained her sanity again. Fuck, just no.

Yet, his fingers itched, and his body ached.

He cautiously reached out, his good arm wrapping around her waist, his forehead coming to a light rest on her stomach.

She didn't flinch like he expected, she didn't move at all. Then he felt it, small drops dripping onto his head, the saltiness stinging the cuts on his scalp. Her fingers came to lace themselves into his hair, pulling him closer.

He had held her within his arms before, but this was different now. It felt like she might break, that he could just squeeze and her waist would snap. When had she gotten so thin, so weak? His lips twitched against the rough fabric of her dress, the excess of the thin belt of rope dangled, scratching his cheek.

"Kiss me." She whispered it, low and hidden among a single breath. Guts leaned back and took her all in, every inch.

"Really?" His look of surprise caused Casca to grow still.

"Is it a problem?" Her hold loosened on his hair, her brown eyes shifting away to something far from this room.

"No. I thought you'd," Guts sighed. "I thought you'd need time to adjust. I'm not into all the talking shit, but I figured…you might need it. I've dealt with this, but you haven't and I—"

Casca grabbed his face, her nails leaving half moon marks in his cheeks, her lips covering his in a rush. He wrapped his arms around her, placing his iron arm as well now, even if it was an imitation, it still produced that sense of intimacy they both needed.

They disconnected, both breathing heavily. Casca pressed her forehead against his, "I do need to talk. We need to talk." Her voice became a whisper. "But I just wanted to feel something good. I couldn't remember how your lips felt. I couldn't remember the feeling of you. How intense even your kisses were." She back away from him, out of his embrace. His arms hung by his sides, an almost defeated position.

"I can remember it. I can remember the pain." She closed her eyes, her head shaking. "All I want is to know how good it is to be touched with love again." Her mouth became dry, the gruffness of her voice even more noticeable. Tears began to spill from her eyes, her fingers pulling at the belt encircling her waist. "You told me you wanted more. A hundred times. A thousand. All we got was a handful, and ever since your touch has been washed away from me by years of…," her voice trailed off.

The belt dropped to her feet. She grabbed the hem of her dress and in one swift movement, pulled it from her body. Guts didn't notice the way the course fabric fell to the floor in a heap. His words tangled in his throat as he became rock hard. Guts took slow, deep breaths, trying to relax, but he was beyond thankful that at least he could see out of one eye, that the Berserker armor hadn't robbed him of sight just yet. He never thought he would see her like this again, never so soon.

He left his chair and walked towards her, his body already responding painfully at the very sight of her.

"We need to talk."

"We will talk. But I want a reason to push through these thoughts. To get back to the days where I was really me." She examined him, moving from his hair streaked with white, his lone eye, the wounds that had engraved themselves into him forever. "I need you."

"You are really you. I'm the same, we're the same."

"No…we aren't." She closed the gap between them, entwining her arms around him. Casca's breasts pressed against his own bare skin, the feeling electrifying. He knew she felt it, the way her nipples reached their peak without any ministrations, just the feel of flesh against flesh. She felt that burn too. That need. "We'll never be the same, but maybe we can replace it with something… better."

Guts captured her lips with his, his tongue lightly running along her plump bottom lip. It was a small motion, but she could feel the almost begging quality of it,_please, let me taste you._ Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue moved slow as it sought out his with a teasing caress. They lingered there, clutched in an embrace, the pleasure of their kiss consuming them. But she could feel the hard length of Guts' erection through his pants as it pressed into her stomach. It was an arousing reminder to crave even more from her lover.

Her hands ran up the large expanse of his back, running them along the groves and paths of his muscled shoulders. So much more pronounced then she remembered. Casca felt a pool of wetness between her thighs as she continued down his chest, to an almost halting crawl past his abdomen. Her fingers played with the draw string of his pants before pulling them undone, the fabric falling around his ankles. Then right before his length that she teased him with long, languid strokes of the pads of her fingers. Guts groaned into her mouth, his hand taking grip of her supple ass.

The iron hand, the imitation, ran through the short remains of her hair before resting on the nape of her neck, pressing her moist lips closer to his. His other hand let go of her bottom, and instead focused on the junction between her thighs. The index finger of his good hand began to tease her sensitive flesh. Finding her bud nestled between soft, wet skin, he delicately stroked his finger across it. Casca broke their kiss, gasping as her body quivered in needed anticipation. Guts taking the opportunity, tilted his head and began to kiss and suck at the smooth flesh of her neck, eliciting quiet moans from his lover's bruised lips.

"What do you want?" Guts continued down her hot caramel skin, kissing the spot between her collar bones. He kneeled in front of her, Guts' mouth right in front of her aching breasts, his warm breath teasing her already tight nipples. But as she began to rock her hips, his fingers between her thighs went still. "What do you need?"

"I want—," she couldn't finish the thought as Guts began to tease her nipple, his tongue flickering over the puckered surface causing breathy moans to escape from her lips. Her own hands took hold of his shoulders, trying to both steady herself and touch him in any way she could. She gasped when she felt something cold on her other breast, her nipples becoming painfully stiff with arousal. The backside of her lover's iron hand had moved down the slope of her breasts, before cupping it gently, the thumb of it rubbing the tingling point. The contrast between the smooth, cool iron on one breast, and his hot tongue on the other caused a tremor through Casca. His other hand hadn't been forgotten, his fingers sitting on the edge of her black curls. Waiting.

Guts' lips pulled away from the sensitive tip, "Tell me."

"Please…please keep touching me." Her hips ground against his hand in anticipation, a sob of need escaping her. A low growl began in the back of Guts' throat at the wanton look of Casca, standing before him, beautiful and full of desire. A fire coursed through him, down his sinewy muscles, his arousal throbbing with need. He had wanted this, he had wanted her for so damn long.

Guts rose from his kneeling position and stepped towards her, "Sit on the table." She smiled and walked over to the low table, but instead of sitting, she leaned against it. She watched him with eyes heavy lidded with desire, waiting for his next move. He closed the distance in a few steps, his hands taking hold of her hips and with one fluid moment she was sitting on the table's edge. It didn't matter that he couldn't feel her left leg, he still ran his iron palm down the skin of her thigh, eliciting a moan from his lover, her back arching in response. His right hand squeezed Casca's supple inner thigh as he spread her legs far apart. Guts returned to kneeling now at the perfect position to view her warm, wet entrance.

As he drew closer to her center, Casca's body stiffened, her eyes squeezed shut. She took several deep measured breaths before her brown eyes found his.

"You okay?" concern etched his face.

"Yeah…memories," she shook her head. "That's all."

"Maybe we should stop." Guts began to pull away, but Casca's fingers found their way into his hair holding him firmly in place.

"No. I want this."

"Casca…," his doubt seeped through as he said her name, and she couldn't stand it. They would talk later, they wouldn't think of it till later. It was about now and what she, what they, both wanted and desired. She tugged at his hair, forcing his face further between her parted thighs.

"Kiss me there. Right there." Guts swallowed hard at her words, but didn't move, studying her face for anything that told him to stop. Her cheeks grew warm, a coil turning in her stomach, a mixture of nerves and lust. "Fuck me with your mouth."

Guts bowed his head without a moment's hesitation, his tongue slowly stroking the sensitive bud of her clit. A moan rose from deep within her throat. His tongue tasted her sweet wetness as it found her entrance. He circled it, his tongue spreading her entrance a part, causing himself to groan with his own need. _Be patient._ That's what he told himself as the very tip of his tongue ever so gently entered into her moist center causing Casca's body to spasm. Quick faint moans began to escape from her. She clutched at his hair when he pulled his tongue away, but it returned touching her sex, as it moved from her entrance back to her clit. Guts licked above and below it, all around it, but didn't directly touch the protruding bud. After a few bucks of her hips, he drew the small peak into his mouth, and sucked.

Casca let go of Guts' hair as she fell back onto the table. Biting lightly down on her index finger, stifling the screams building up inside of her, Casca moved her hips in rhythm. Trying desperately to reach that point as her pleasure began to grow inch by inch.

Then he pulled away.

Guts saw the look of rage embedded in her face as she shot up from the table, her body tight and wound wanting release. "What the fuck was that, Guts?" He got back onto his feet again and walked away from her. He shrugged.

"This might be too much for you. Too soon and all that shit." Guts ran his hand through his hair. Even though he was worried for her, his body was still thrumming with desire. As much as he wanted to atone for his previous mistakes, to gain control, he couldn't deny how badly he wanted to be buried deep inside her tight little body. He looked away.

Casca leapt from the table, and with two long strides came to stand right in front of him. "Did I say stop?"

"No."

"Fuck you." She shoved him. Casca tried to will the tears from her eyes, knowing it wouldn't help her case. "Is it because of…do you not want me now?"

Guts stared at her aghast, "No, what the fuck? No. I do." He looked down at his erection, now even harder than before, if that was possible. "Obviously I do."

"Sit on the bed." Her eyes shone in the light from the ship windows. "Now," that was the voice of his commander. Guts took a seat at the edge of the bed.

"I want you. I want this." She straddled him, her wet heat rubbing against his own arousal. They both groaned in response. "Touch me please." Using his iron arm to steady himself, his good hand grabbed her ass grinding her lower half closer to his.

"I want you too, Casca. I missed…" Guts kissed her lips, and then he felt the bulging head of his member pressed against her wet entrance. He groaned in their kiss, squeezing her ass as she lowered herself down his thick hardness. Her eyes rolled back into her head once she was filled to the hilt, her hold on his shoulders tightening. Neither moved as Casca adjusted, but she deepened their kiss. Her tongue stroked his, and it added to the sensation of their bodies joined together. He took his time kissing her, savoring each and every moment. Her hips twitched, and her body began to rise and fall, his hand on her bottom firm and guiding. He pumped his hips, meeting her rhythm with long languid strokes. It was a slow and sweet torment as she rode him, the pressure mounting up between them.

He could always tell when she was about to climax. It was in the way her eyes sought out his, fire and lust stirring in their depths. The way she grasped at him, scratching his flesh. The way she bit down on her lip, or the bottom of his to keep from screaming.

Guts took hold of her hips, halting her movements. Casca's mouth opened to chastise him, her eyes burning with fury, until he thrust back into her. He took deep strokes, pumping himself in and out of her at a faster, smoother pace. No more torment now, just pure pleasure.

She screamed then, her back arching as sensation after sensation of ecstasy filled her. He watched her climax above him, her head tilted back, the whites of her eyes the only thing he could see. Guts came then, his low groan joining her screams of pleasure as they echoed throughout the room.

* * *

Farnese pulled away from the keyhole, her legs shaky as she stood. She thought of what she had seen, a red hue creeping into her creamy cheeks. The blonde had been curious, which was no excuse, but…she needed to know. She needed to see something. The moans and breathy whispers coming from within the room had reminded her of her own fascination with the black swordsman, why she had come on this journey in the first place. She had only been able to see Casca's back, her caramel flesh, hot and beaded with sweat. She had only seen Guts' hand gripping the woman tighter against him, and yet she felt a throbbing between her legs.

As quietly as she could, she walked away, leaving the shirt and pair of pants folded neatly by the door.


End file.
